Missions Misunderstood

Backyard Bible Clubs. Youth Camp. Sports ministries. If you do any of these as evangelistic outreach, I've got a question for you: are you taking advantage of children?

Yeah, I know- you came to faith through VBS when you were six years old. If it "worked" for you, it can't be that bad, right?

Let's just say, for the sake of argument, that a group of Muslims come to visit your town. They're prepared with snacks and games and crappy little crafts with Popsicle sticks. They blanket your neighborhood with fliers announcing: Games! Clowns! Snacks! Crafts! Fun!

Or say you don't see the fliers, but you're at the park with your kids. There you are, minding your own business, eating your Chick-fil-a picnic lunch, and said group of Muslims approach your kids with balloons and puppets and invite them to participate in their Backyard Koran Club. You look around and see veiled women hanging around the playground. Young peachfuzz-bearded men picking teams for a game of non-competitive Red-Rover. How would you feel?

My European friends have convinced me: children's "ministries" are a dangerous thing.
The problem is that we put children in a position to be overwhelmingly influenced by us. We orchestrate situations full of "positive" peer pressure. We give gifts and Kool-Aid and ask them to give their hearts to Jesus. Is this fair? What are the long-term affects of child evangelism?

You might disagree, and quote Mark 10 (Where Jesus said, "Let the little children come unto me.") I'm just not sure that meant "Dupe the little kids into saying the Sinner's prayer."

Remember youth camp? We take impressionable 13-17 yr. olds out of their familiar surroundings, and keep them in a controlled, "Christian" environment, where they are taught by super-cool counselors. They get no sleep, they eat trash, and every evening we coax an emotional response out of them through hours upon hours of pep-rallies ("We love Jesus, yes we do, we love Jesus, how 'bout you?!"), guilt-trip sermons ("Come, nail all your sins to this cross."), and endless "Just As I Am" invitations. Is this fair? These are children! We don't want cigarette and beer companies to advertise to them, but it's okay if we do?

You might say, "Yeah, but we're right! Don't you want to see children come to faith?" Of course I do. But I want everyone who comes to faith to do so without coercion. I want a generation of born-again believers, not "I-said-the-prayer" cultural Christians. I want parents to know that we care about them and their children, whether or not they become Christians. I want parents to know what we're teaching their children, and how, and why.

I believe the word should be taught to children. We should be telling Bible stories, sharing difficult truths, and praying with and for our children. But I think child evangelism, and it's commonly practiced, is wrong.

I guess I probably won't be invited to speak at any youth camps when I'm home on furlough next year...

A couple of weeks ago, David Rogers tagged me with a game that asked me to list some books I've read recently. It sort of made the rounds through the blogosphere (again), and many of my fellow bloggers had played along. There are categories, such as "One book that changed your life" or " One book you'd want on a desert island." I posted my answers on the Stepchild blog, but that's not the point. The point is that it took me a very long time to decide what books to list, and not for lack or plenty of recently read books.

At first, I filled out the questionnaire without putting too much thought into it. Nobody really reads that blog anyway. It was while I was proof reading that I hesitated. Every book I had listed was "Christian." Every one. I stopped to think for a second. Was "Searching For God Knows What" my favorite book ever? Would I really want to read "A New Kind of Christian" over and over if I was stranded on a desert island? Had any "Christian" book made me laugh (on purpose), ever?

My mind flipped through the pages of some of the great literature I've had the privilege of reading (and -in the case of university- skimming): Dickens, Hawthorne, Steinbeck. These guys wrote books. Most "Christian" books are glorified how-to manuals or sermons I'd never sit through. They don't really move you, and if they do, it's likely because you've been lulled into a "Christian" coma by the garbage they sell in the local Bible bookstore.

How else can you explain 16 books in the "Left Behind" series?

So I went back to the book list game, and I filled in the blanks with non"Christian" books. Real books. And while I admit that I left out my favorite C.S. Lewis title just out of spite, I like to think that my "secular" list is more honest. Those are the books that have affected the way my imagination works. The best part about them, Poe and Salinger, is that they changed the way I think without actually setting out to do that.

When I think about it, nearly every "Christian" book I've ever read was written in an attempt to influence the way I think. It's evident by the text (no matter what the genre) that most of the authors are trying to teach me something. From the beginning, they set out to change my mind about something. Instead of telling a story for the sake of the beauty or honesty of it, they start with an agenda and go from there. How to have a better understanding of ministry or steps toward the full Christian life. Even the biographies are trying to convince me that so-and-so was a good man or that what's-his-name was what a Christian ought to be.

Beauty. Good story-telling. True creativity. These things, if you can find them at all in "Christian" literature, are accidental.

So I think I'm happy with my list as it stands. I did include one "Christian" book after all. Sure I've read some great religious books. Some have influenced me quite a bit. But despite all their zealous attempts at making me a better Christian, they remain largely forgettable compared to truly good books.

Despite the fact that people are always telling me that history is important, I've never really been a history buff. In fact, I learned nearly everything I know about history by watching Hollywood movies. I didn't even know about the Apollo 13 thing until, well, Apollo 13. Forest Gump taught me about three Presidents, Elvis Presley, and the Black Panthers. Saving Private Ryan exposed me to the horrors of World War II... okay, so maybe Tom Hanks taught me all the history I know.

Anyway, I read something the other day about how a large percentage of the homeless population in the U.S. are veterans of the war in Vietnam. Many of them came home after the war and were never able to integrate back in to American life and culture; at least not enough to hold down a job and support a family. I guess it would really change a person to be recruited by his country (or worse still, drafted) into the military, trained to kill people and blow things up, and sent off to fight Asian Communists. I can't imagine how war must affect a person. But I don't think that war is the only reason we can still find veterans walking down the middle of the street talking to themselves in obscenities at three o'clock in the morning. I think it's America's fault.

I think that Americans weren't really all that into the fight against communism in the first place, and when President Johnson sent all those boys to Vietnam, the country was indifferent. While they were gone, Americans decided they were against this unwinnable war, and began to resent it. They protested against it. And when the boys came back they weren't welcomed with the ticker-tape parades like the heroes of WWII. No, they were showered with shouts of "Baby Killer!" and other mean things. No wonder the soldiers didn't fit in when they got back. They did exactly what they were trained and sent to do, and when they got home, we blamed them.

Sometimes it seems like that same sort of thing happens to missionaries.

Now I would never even consider comparing the experience of a soldier fighting in a physical war to what we go through on the field. Especially not those of us in Western Europe. The comparison I'm making is not to the effects of the battle, but to the necessity of support from those who sent us, and the profound effects of anything less than total support.

My recruitment to work for the IMB began when I was four years old. It was a denominational program called "Mission Friends," and we were taught about brave IMB missionaries who left their homes and went to live among the primitive tribes of Guatemala or wherever. My missions education continued throughout my life: Royal Ambassadors, Sojourners, Centrifuge. They told me what missions was, and how it was done.

So I "enlisted." I felt God's calling and made the decision to enter "full-time ministry," whatever that meant. I went to a Baptist University for training, and then on to Seminary. Both trained me well in the ways of church planting, Bible scholarship, and cross-cultural communication. The IMB put me through a crash-course orientation, and I was off to the "Foreign Field."

We hit the ground running. We sought out Persons of Peace and worked to learn the language and engage the culture. We started groups and shared our faith. And it affected us. We worked to live out our faith in this foreign context, and it changed us. Doing what we were sent to do had the side effect of allowing us to see ourselves from another perspective. We found it harder and harder to relate to the fat, lazy American Christians and their fat, lazy American Christianity; so full of themselves and their politics and their megabuildings. We began to resent being sent by religious people that wanted us to set up American franchise churches and who threw money at us to "just do our jobs." We grew frustrated with the increasingly restrictive rules that they imposed without any regard for the impact those rules might have on our ministries. We are becoming jaded.

It wasn't until the first time I returned to the States on vacation that I realized that the churches, those same people that cheered us on and prayed over us at our appointment, had changed, too. New missions trends, theories, and ideas had swept through the Christian subculture, and the focus had moved on to different unreached people groups. Missions-minded churches were still sending volunteers, but they craved something more "extreme." Some churches focused only on local "missions," buying into the idea that overseas ministry is only for rich megachurches. The majority seems to think that by getting involved in IMB politics and trustee antics they are somehow supporting us and furthering the kingdom work. The churches sent us, and then for whatever reason, forgot us.

Now missionaries compete with other missionaries for support. We talk up our flashy new programs to try to get volunteers to come to us and not to Central Asia. We tell stories of how hard it is here to legitimize our work, to prove to you that we, too, are doing real missions. We print up professional-quality prayer cards to attract your attention to our photo on your refrigerator.

In my last post, I wrote about the resolution to "Develop an exit strategy from public schools" that is being proposed to the Southern Baptist Convention. Since we're trying to put together an effective entrance strategy here in Western Europe (doing the opposite of what the resolution calls for), I've decided to put myself in the shoes of someone back in the states and give some suggestions for engaging our communities through the public school system:

They aren't well-paid. They work long hours, and they are "on call" 24 hours a day. Their impact is great, but they receive little recognition. They share their testimonies and beliefs every chance they get, thought they often deal with strict regulations against openly sharing their faith. I'm not talking about missionaries to far-off places, here; this is the life of your average Christian public school teacher. Which brings me to my first point:

1. Local churches need to start treating public school teachers as missionaries. I mean it. A commissioning service, full prayer support, maybe even some financial assistance. They are doing missions by sharing life with people in natural ways. Everything they teach, every opinion they give is heavily influenced by their relationship with Jesus. We see it so clearly in foreign lands- missionaries in China teaching English classes- but for some reason we put teachers in a different category. They go through culture shock. They have to learn a "foreign" language. They have to be creative, patient, and culturally relevant. It's time we recognize that.

What if, instead of pulling out of the public school system, we pushed our way into it? What if the public school system was flooded with Christian students, teachers, and administrators?

2. We need to start sending teachers into the system. Whenever a young person asks me about becoming a missionary, I always encourage them to look for ways outside the professional missionary system. Having the title "Missionary" brings with it more barriers and obstacles than we often realize. What if we started recruiting, training, and sending young people into the public school system as missionaries to their communities? We send short-term semester and summer missionaries to rough, inner-city areas to minister, why not send qualified teachers into those schools that are desperate for teachers anyway?

3. We need to be intentional about training and sending our children to public schools. What if we trained them, even the young ones, to study the culture of their class at school? What if we prepared them to face the dangers of their particular mission field and helped them get spiritually ready to face each day in that context?

4. Parents must get involved. The public school system began it's sex education program in the fourth grade when I was in public school. My mom went and previewed the films and curriculum, and then made me read a James Dobson book to supplement what was being taught. Ok, so I don't recommend giving kids a James Dobson book, but I think she had the right idea. If parents know what's being taught to their kids, they can counter those worldly things with truth. This way, kids know what the world says, and learn to contrast that with what the Bible says.

But parents aren't only limited to reviewing curriculum. They can join the PTA, be a "Class Mom," or a Teacher's Aid. They can get on all those committees, boosters, clubs, and organizations that actually decide what the public school does. At our local school, there was a PTA committee that decided whether or not a church plant could meet on the campus on Sundays. Parents can even substitute teach. This would extend the parent's influence to reach not only their own kids, but other kids in the community as well.

5. To affect change, service is the answer. We have "work days" at church, why don't local churches organize and sponsor work days at the local public schools? The administrators are always looking for ways to save money. What if some Christians came in and raked leaves or repainted the lockers? Schools always need recess monitors and traffic controllers and crossing guards. A Bible Study group could supply refreshments for the School Board meetings. Doing these things, without expecting special favors in return and without any strings attached, would affect the local public schools for the better. What if the school administrators didn't have to see Christians as their enemies? Wouldn't it be something if, when faced with a need, the principal felt he could call the local church for help?

So I guess what I'm proposing here is that we develop an "entry and engagement strategy" for the public schools. Not so we can make them "Christian," but so we can make to most of this great opportunity we have to interact with and serve our communities. Our involvement is what will help our children. It is being salt and light.

In Western Europe, missionaries develop and implement these sorts of strategies in order to engage their communities and plant churches. We would start here and go even further, looking for those existing entry points into the community and making the most of them. What if the churches that send us were doing the same back home?

Every year, Southern Baptists from across the United States get together in an annual Convention. This is a time for them to discuss denominational direction, elect leaders, and share what God is doing. One key part of the meeting is the proposal of resolutions. These are actions that members would like the denomination as a whole to support. Because they are passed by majority vote, approved resolutions say a lot about the Southern Baptist Convention. An example would be the resolution to boycott Disney. It was passed in 1997, and called on all Southern Baptists to boycott all media, products, and properties of the Walt Disney Company.

As this year's convention in Greensboro, North Carolina nears, several resolutions are being proposed. One that I find particularly troubling is a resolution calling for Southern Baptist churches to develop an exit strategy from public schools." Now this is not a new one- Al Mohler proposed it a couple years ago. But the attitude behind it is frustrating.

As a missionary, my job is to enter into a community and translate the gospel into the culture of the people there. It isn't easy. I spend a lot of my time the things that influence people and learning how they think and behave. The most challenging part about it all is finding ways to meet people and interact with them in meaningful ways. With rules against us taking jobs here and no funds to pay for joining clubs and other activities, we struggle to find common ground with the few people God brings to us. Despite the difficulty, (and the fact that we aren't wanted here!) we continue to seek new ways to engage the population. Why? Because God brought us here to be salt and light, and He has given us everything we need in order to be who we need to be.

But while we are looking for an entrance strategy to get access to lost people, we hear about believers back home wanting to develop an exit strategy. These are brothers and sisters who share our same commission to make disciples, but don't face a language/culture barrier, and have natural access to the lost people of their communities. Forgive my frustration, but it seems that these folks don't appreciate the opportunity God has provided in the public school system.

I know what goes on in public schools. I understand that they aren't teaching biblical truth. I know that things go on there that are not God-honoring. Sure, people are concerned about their children's learning and development. It makes sense that parents would want to protect their kids from the sin that infests the system. I'm not interested in getting into a debate about home-schooling. Really. Please. I respect a parent's right and responsibility to select the best form of education for their kids. I don't think homeschooling is wrong. I know there are other ways for kids to be involved with their peers. As far as I'm concerned, it about the attitude.

I am frustrated that my denomination would consider supporting the development of an "exit strategy" from public schools because it is indicative of an attitude that is the opposite of missional. If the people who are in favor of this resolution were really thinking of themselves as missionaries; really looking for ways to engage the people around them, I wonder if they wouldn't reconsider. On the field, our families are in constant spiritual danger. We are surrounded by materialism, sexual sin, drug use, the occult, and other enemy activity. Obedience to God's call and direction requires exposure to sinful things. When God sent us, He knew what our kids would go through. He knew how it would break our hearts to see MK's deal with things that children shouldn't have to deal with. We know first-hand the importance of putting on spiritual armor. But we do it because we're here to be incarnational to the people here.

We see it pretty clearly here. Have our brothers and sisters in the States lost sight of that?

I'm concerned about the message this attitude sends to our children. This sort of isolationism is what has made Christianity ineffective and irrelevant; not only to the world, but to our children and ourselves. It has led to the construction of a "Christian" subculture that takes us off the front lines of ministry and lulls us into complacency, trusting our "Christian" version of the world to be safe and, well, Christian.

How can we justify separating ourselves from the world because it isn't pleasing to God? How can we prepare our children to engage the culture and to work redemptively within it if we take them out of it? Shouldn't we as parents expect to supplement our children's education with discipleship? Couldn't we use their exposure to sinful things as an opportunity to teach them to find bridges to sharing the gospel, discern right from wrong and truth from lies, and to avoid fear of the world? What if we started thinking of ourselves as missionaries, and started training our children to be on mission as well?

I recently attended a conference workshop where the speaker asked a lot of questions. She was talking about postmodernism (yeah, we still have to have the "Postmodernism" talk every time we get together), and sharing from her experience with a postmodern European guy. She presented their interaction as a case study, to illustrate the challenge of cultural translation of the good news. After she told her story she, for the sake of discussion, asked her audience: "So what would you do if you were in my shoes and ministering to this postmodern European guy?"

And then it began.

Instead of taking the speaker's question (she is an excellent communicator, by the way) as a conversation-starter, they heard her asking for advice on how to handle the situation. Never mind the fact that the speaker was asked to speak because of her wisdom and experience in ministry to postmoderns. Never mind that she had already been ministering to this individual for some time. People actually raised their hands and offered their answers to her "problem!"

"Have you tried confronting him about his sin?"
"You should give him a copy of 'Evidence That Demands A Verdict.'"
"I'd move him to the back burner and look for someone more open to the gospel."

I'll admit that I was secretly comforted by the response the speaker received. I've often found myself in the same situation; asking questions to inspire discussion but met with words of advice from an oblivious audience. Until now, I thought it was me.

Now, please don't hear me say that I don't want or need the wisdom of others. I, of all of us, certainly do. But there's something disheartening about interactive discussion being shut down by a know-it-all. More than the answers, I think it's the attitude that ruins things. It's the "I've already got these things figured out. I'll go to the trouble of sharing the solutions with you, but I won't venture to honestly revisit the question." You can almost hear them saying: "Look, I gave you the answer. I solved your problem. If you spend any more time talking about it, you're a fool."

But what that says to people like me (as if there were more than just me) is that the know-it-alls don't really have it figured out at all. They have a working "solution," and either for fear, laziness, or ignorance, won't suffer questioning it again. I never want to be that guy. But for some reason, our subculture often seems to hold "that guy" up as the leader.

I am encouraged, though. It's been a long time since "that guy" has been invited to lead a workshop.

I say, let's ask questions. Even the ones we answered a long time ago. Especially the ones that are scary to ask. Let's, for the sake of discussion, re-ask questions about God and His people from the perspective of know-nothings. I think there's a lot to be learned by asking questions. Don't you?